


Listen To What Is Said

by Krasimer



Series: Do Not Go Gentle [17]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Altered Mental States, Humanstuck, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, majorly au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4182762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You wake up with a pounding in your head and a view of the sky above you. </p><p>When you try to move for the first time, you realize that you're on your back, arms spread as if asking the sky for a hug, and them fluffy clouds above your head are soft-looking enough to make you want to give them one.</p><p>You've never seen the daylit sky before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen To What Is Said

You wake up with a pounding in your head and a view of the sky above you. 

When you try to move for the first time, you realize that you're on your back, arms spread as if asking the sky for a hug, and them fluffy clouds above your head are soft-looking enough to make you want to give them one.

You've never seen the daylit sky before.

It's pretty, vast and blue, and it looks like something out of a wiggler's little-book, the stories that your lusus tried reading to you before he ran away and stopped paying attention. The word 'Dad' floats around in your mind for a little while as you continue to stare up at the sky, still stretched out on the ground. It brings the image of a man with scars around his mouth, a human who looks like a Subjuggulator, except made tinier. 

Humans, you remember, don't get all huge-like the same as trolls.

Footsteps approach you slowly and you shift your eyes away from the sky, curling your fingers in the grass when you spot the person walking towards you. His hair is a mass of neat curls around his shoulders, and you know that yours is messier. If that weren't how you liked it, you'd probably be a little embarrassed.

He kneels down next to you and sighs, poking a finger into your shoulder and tilting his head in a silent question.  
In your thinkpan, you can feel the rage of the Highblood you were, and you try to press it down because it don't feel right to let it out right now, even with him touching you and staying quiet. Instead of lashing out at him, you think you're gonna talk to him, try to remember exactly what's happening. The last thing you remember was the game, all of your friends being afraid of you and Tavros-

You sit up, forcing the other guy back as you panic.

Tavbro ain't here.

Your chest is rising so fast and shallow that you ain't getting any air, your fingers digging into the dirt beneath them. The other guy puts an entire hand on your chest, holding you still as you panic, and a few minutes pass before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer. 

There's a part of you that wants to howl, scream and scream and scream until the world falls apart and gives him back to you, gives you back Tavros because that is what made everything bad. You lost him and everything was made horrible, the loss combined with the lack of sopor to keep the nightmares locked away. Your moon was destroyed and you lost Tavros and you didn't have the one thing that had reliably kept your bad-self at bay for sweeps and you had- You lost yourself to your own damn thinkpan.

Both of the other guy's hands wrap around your face, forcing you to look into eyes that are something you remember, even though they're wrong. 

They're purple, almost the same color as the blood you had claimed as your own, and they're looking at you like they're trying to figure you out. He yanks gently, just once, on your entire head, as if trying to rattle the pieces of your scattered thinkpan back into place, then sighs. When he does speak, the words that come out of his mouth ain't the language you remember the humans having, but you understand it.

"I'm going to assume that you remember now." he says calmly, hands still pressed against your face. He lets you nod, then nods back. "Good. You're going to calm the fuck down, and we're going to go inside and let our dad know, and then we're going to go find our neighbor's son and we're going to tell him that you're finally caught up to us and he's probably going to cry and then I'm going to chaperone you two while you get food." he sighs. "Xochitl is going to be so angry at you because you haven't eaten in eighteen hours. I do not want to deal with his anger, so you're going to go in front of me and talk him down."

"...Xochitl?"

He mutters something, rolls his eyes, then nods. "Your memories aren't fitting together right yet. This is going to be fun." standing up, he drags you with him, getting you settled on your feet and patting the top of your head gently. "Your name is Garaile Ochoa, you're now my little brother. I got my memories back about a year ago, and there is something I need to do, but I also needed to wait until you were here."

You nod back, finding your tongue and talking back to him. "If my name's Garaile, what's yours?"

"Carles." he answers, a small smile twisting the edges of his mouth. The movement of his face makes you remember something, a troll with a face painted similar to yours, but with a different pattern, a skull rather than the painted shapes of the Messiah's that you had worn. "Dad's name is Aitor."

"Why do we have a dad?"

Carles pauses at that, having taken your hand in his own to drag you into the house. "What?"

"My lusus didn't wanna have anything to do with me." you stutter over the words, trying to fit them into the language you find yourself speaking. "He ran away the moment he could."

"That's because he was an asshole." Carles answers, his entire face twisted with anger. He leans down and picks you up around the knees, throwing you over his shoulder and walking quickly into the house. "He shouldn't have done that." he mutters, patting awkwardly at the back of your knee as you watch the grass move without your legs moving. 

It's a weird feeling.

There's a noise and then you're confused as the ground moves further away, the grass giving way to soft fabric, Carles's feet bare as he walks along and finally stops.

"Why are you holding your brother like that?" comes a deeper voice, and the word 'Dad' pops back into your mind as Carles drops you back down onto your own feet. You're shorter than him, but built the same. Long pieces attached to a long piece, a mop of hair covering your head and a face that is sort of delicate and hard to break at the same time. 

The two of them start talking, but you ignore it as you hold a hand up so you can look at it. Your skin is dark, like you spend a lot of time out in the sun, and your nails are bright green. They look like you painted them with sopor, and it takes you a moment to realize that's not true. There's darker marks on your arms, galaxies painted onto your skin, and you smile as you look at them, think about counting all of them and memorizing each and every one.

"Gamzee." comes the patient voice of someone.

Oh.

You look back at the other two, hands still held up so that you can inspect them, their faces telling you that they think it's funny and that it's okay. The bigger of the two, your dad, is holding a knife and leaning close to a counter, his other hand resting on top of a couple of long orange things your thinkpan tells you are 'carrots'. He sighs as he sets the knife down, reaching over and pulling you close until you're pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like a cocoon.

"What was done to bring us here," he says, his chest rumbling with his voice. "Gave us the memories from the lusii, of watching the wigglers that are now ours grow up. From Kurloz's lusus, I got a lot of things." he breathes deeply, slow and steady, and you find yourself matching the pace. "I got almost fucking nothing from the motherfucker that was supposed to raise you."

There are a couple of scars on his arms, his sleeves rolled up to expose them. 

His hand rests in your hair, the entire palm of it covering most of the back of your head. This is, you realize, the Grand Highblood. This is your ancestor. 

Kurloz puts his hand on your back, a spot of warmth that doesn't seem right for him to have, and sighs. "Can I explain Xochitl now?" he asks quietly, still speaking in the language that feels right when it hits your ears. Your dad-cestor nods, still holding onto you like you're tiny and breakable, and Kurloz grins. "Xochitl is our neighbor, as I've already said. He has a brother and a father, with his mother gone and buried long ago.

"His brother is named Citlali, but I don't think you're too interested in him, seeing as Xochitl used to be a troll named Tavros." 

Everything freezes for a moment, and your ganderbulbs are probably open wide enough to fall out of your face as you turn to look at him. Your bloodpusher is racing in your chest and there's a distinct whining noise that you're embarrassed to realize is coming from you. Your dad's arms relax, then let go as you try to step away from him. Kurloz is watching you, a hand partially raised like he's going to try to stop you if you start running.

Something must have shown on your face because he raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. "I wouldn't. All I'm going to do is make you put on your shoes, because it's safer that way and as humans we don't have as much protection on the bottom of our feet."

You nod slowly, allow him to guide you to the front of the house and push you down onto a chair.

"Is he really okay?" you ask quietly, fidgeting in your seat. He has one hand on your knee, keeping your pressed into place as he reaches for a pair of shoes that are a familiar purple color. The laces trail behind them as he drops them to the floor right next to him, grabbing one of you feet by the back of it and shoving it into the shoe. "I remember him dying. Tavbro died and I found his body and he was-"

Kurloz pauses, reaching up to put a hand over your mouth. "He's fine, little brother. He's the first of our group to have remembered, and he's the one who advised us on what to do when we did too." he goes back to jamming your shoes onto your feet, ignoring the fact that you don't have socks on. "And I'm a little more worried about the fact that you're memories are doing this weird fucking thing where they aren't matching up at the edges. For everyone else, they lined up automatically."

"I dunno..." you lean back, crossing your arms over your chest as he ties your shoes, lacing each one up and patting the sides of your foot when he finishes. "If I find that bitch, I might hurt her."

"From what I've heard," Kurloz twists and grabs his own shoes, pulling a pair of socks out of them and yanking them on. "You already did." He stands and offers you his hand. "Come on, little brother. Like the first day of school, when you were little, I'll walk you over and make sure that they know what's going on." he smiles as you stand up, patting gently at your hair. 

Going outside again is still a shock, the blue of the sky that you are still not used to almost glowing overhead in the bright light of the sun.

Less than sixty feet away is another house, the soft orange-brown of the walls almost as startling as the light that surrounds you. Sitting on the front lawn is a young man with dark skin and a bright red mohawk, and you actually know who he is, which seems really motherfucking weird. He spots the two of you and waves, a bright grin on his face as he stands up and pulls on the vest that was sitting on the ground next to him. 

"Garaile, Carles!" he greets, clapping a hand to each of your shoulders. His hands are warm, scorchingly hot, and it just makes the knowledge of who he is even more obvious. 

With a small nod, Kurloz lets go of your hand and brings his up to the top of your head, patting your hair down again. "We have a bit of an important day, fucker." he says happily, his lazy smile exposing a couple of teeth that wouldn't have looked out of place on a troll. "He just spent a couple of hours lying on the grass in the backyard. Want to guess what happened while he was out there?"

Citlali pauses, then shakes as laughter booms out of him, both of his arms wrapping around you and hugging so tightly that your spine cracks. "Welcome home, little Makara!" he crows, setting you back on your feet and holding out a steadying hand while you sway.

His hugs are the best.

"It's probably going to be weird, considering that memories are a little off with him," Kurloz explains. "They aren't mixing right, and I was hoping that he could see Xochitl and figure out if that'll help anything."

"Definitely." Citlali nods once, then turns and starts heading across the lawn.

Watching someone walk when you know they're supposed to have wings is fucking strange, you decide. His entire posture is built for wings, he walks like he's going to take off at any moment, and his wardrobe suggests much of the same. He opens the front door of the house and enters, gesturing you inside, then rushing up the stairs and calling out a name that you have been told belongs to someone you missed.

Your thinkpan is blaring with thoughts of 'He belongs to me'.

And then there is someone in front of you, warm brown eyes and slightly-blonde hair that tumbles into his face from an undercut-mohawk that looks so familiar you think you might cry. You wipe roughly at your face, feeling the warm drops of tears break against your skin as you sniff. Yep, too fucking late to stop the tears, they're already falling and his face is suddenly pressed cheek-to-cheek with yours, one of his hands in your hair and the other braced between your shoulder-blades.

"It's okay Gamzee." he whispers, the same language that you've been speaking all day coming out smoothly from him. He sounds more in control of himself than he used to, his tone stronger and his- Everything about him seems steadier and you're glad because you feel like you're going to fall if you so much as fucking twitch. "I've got you, don't worry."

You're sitting down now, pressed against his front. 

Actually he's the one sitting down, your knees pressed against the ground and your hands clenched tightly in the fabric of his shirt, both of his tangled in the dark curls that surround your face. There's no space between the two of you and that feels right, like it has always been meant to end up that way.

Tavros smells good, smells like baked pastry and grass and pollen and you have to figure out how the fuck you survived ever living without him.

"Mostly because we've been neighbors since we were about a year old." he chuckles, finally pulling back so that he can see your face clearly, brushing your hair out of your eyes. "It's okay. You're here now, and you remember, and we can work on fixing things."

The parts of your thinkpan that have been whispering horrible things at you is quiet now. The ugly parts of you that no one should see have been locked away because Tavros is here and solid and real and here. What Vriska did to him has been changed, he's back and he's okay and it's only when he looks like he's crying too that you realize all of this has been spewing from your talkhole as you thought it.

"Of course I'm here, Gamzee." he presses his palms against your cheeks, like Kurloz did earlier, but with him it feels more like reassurance instead of an almost-scolding. 

You sit like that with him for a long while, long enough that his dad comes home and pauses for a moment to look at the two of you, an eyebrow raised as he takes off his coat and drops his car-keys onto the table next to the door. He smiles when he notices you looking up at him, a knowing look on his face. "Hello Garaile, are you alright?"

"All good." you mutter, finally drawing back so that Tavros can sit up and look at his dad with an equally big smile on his face. 

Tavros pets at your hair, like you're something precious, like you were never the troll that you were, like you weren't ever a threat. "He remembers now!" he exclaims happily, his eyes bright and you don't know what you expected him to be like as a human, but you're so glad that this is it. 

"Oh so that's what the stairs blockade is about." his dad teases, turning when there's a knock on the door, opening it and stepping back to let in Aitor. The larger man is carrying a pot of something, a length of rope looped between the handles and around the lid so that he can carry it one-handed. "It finally happened today, I see." he comments as Aitor walks to the kitchen, lugging what must be a thirty pound pot of stew in his hand with ease. 

"Considering that your boy knew about two years ago and is, as far as we know, the first to remember of everyone involved?" Aitor calls back, and you can hear the laughter in his voice. "I'm just glad it happened before they went off to college."

Being human calms trolls down, you think sleepily. Good to know.

A bubble of thought follows that, like it's tryin' to float into the sky and meet the sunshine and make a home in the clouds. There's a boy who went to school with you a couple of years ago, he'd been three years older than you; He'd had red hair and dark eyes and caramel skin that almost always seemed heated, even in winter and you'd poked his shoulder once.

Almost every other word out of his mouth had been swearing at you, vicious words that you knew he didn't actually mean, even though you didn't remember anything yet. 

He'd been short, always much shorter than you, and he'd gone off to college the year after you met him. When you'd gotten a growth spurt over the summer between Freshmen and Sophomore years, he'd cussed you out, especially when you'd leaned down and pressed the bottom of your chin to his head. His growth spurt, the one that had come in the same time and between his Junior and Senior years had given him three inches, finally nudging him over the same holdable size he'd been.

When you think about him, the constantly irritated boy who'd been older than you and angry so much of the time, only one name attaches itself to him and it makes you smile.

"Gamzee?"

"I know where Karbro is," you grin up at him, turning over so that you're sitting between his knees with your head in his lap. His hands are still playing with your hair and that's good. "Motherfucker all up and went to school with us, Tavbro."

You watch as he thinks about it, then grins back at you. "Oh!"

"Yeah." you giggle, reach up a hand and brush the dangling hairs out of his face. "Angry and small and right fuckin' there." You're switching between languages, the two different ways to speak feeling interchangable as you watch your hopefully-flushbuddy light up like a fuckin' star.

It feels like you finally came home.

 

_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_

 

Turns out that finding Karbro again ain't all that easy.

His old house is empty, obviously looks like it hasn't been lived in for at least a year, if the newspapers on the porch are to be believed. Your dad had driven you to the place, explaining on the way that it's an unsolved case, open and stalled-out, because the disappearance of the Burakgazi's had been a cold trail from the very beginning.

That's also how you find out that he'd had to remove himself from the case because of a personal connection between himself and Karkat's dad. Your memories are starting to fall in line, come together like a well-baked pie, and you think you know what sort of personal connection it was. Kurloz is sort of the same, having had an uninformed crush on the older of the Burakgazi boys, the one named Kadri. When his memories had kicked in, the crush had switched over to being in love because it was his matesprite, a troll named Kankri who was the younger version of Karkat's ancestor.

It makes your head spin a little, but it's okay because they were happy.

They're not happy now, though, and that's not good, that's not fair. Apparently Karkat had been the one to come into the station and report his brother and father missing, having to sit in a hard plastic chair and drink a little papercup-full-of-water while someone wrote down details and took numbers and he passed over pictures.

You remember Mister Burakgazi, you remember him moving into town and your dad swinging by his house as an unofficial welcoming party. 

The man was soft, from his voice to his body, but there was something about his passion and his dedication to helping those he could that seemed sharp and quick. His mind had been knife-like inside of the gently lined faced that he showed to everyone in the world, no secrets in his life. Your dad had brought them a small basket of...You think it was fruit, and told him that he took it upon himself to welcome everyone to the town.

Mister Burakgazi had shown up at your dad's church after that, sitting in one of the pews by the door with his two sons seated next to him.

It was one of the reasons that you had approached the younger of the two in school, had nudged your way into his life and brought him pie and tried your best to become his friend. They'd shown up in your life and you were going to help them become part of it, even if all you managed to do was get Kivanc to be less lonely. Their family was a bit like yours: Two sons and a dad, with the mother out of the picture for some reason. Yours had left because she couldn't deal with your dad's schedule anymore, or the fact that he might not come home one day.

Kivanc and Kadri's mother had died after several years battling cancer.

After her death, the three of them had moved back to the U.S., their cousins following and choosing to settle in the next city over. 

But now, all that's left of a friend you want to see desperately is an empty house with a pile of newspapers on the porch, most of them with the faces of the two who went missing in them. Kivanc had gone away for college, you think as you stare up at the windows that suddenly seem to be eyes, each one of them focused on you and making your breath catch in your throat. Your dad had told you that he'd been gone the day the house had been broken into and two of the occupants dragged away.

The highblood rage roars at the back of your mind and your hands curl into white-knuckled, joint-cracking fists. 

If you ever find the person who did this, if you ever meet them, you're going to kill them. It'll be worth jailtime, it'll be worth everything that they can throw at you, if you could just see a family made right again. None of this is motherfucking _right_ , and no one has been able to fix it yet, not even your dad.

When he was a troll, he was the Grand Highblood, the _leader_ of the fuckin' Subjuggulators.

Now he's reduced to a human and you can tell that it's killing him to not know where the former-Signless is, to not know where he can go to make things right in this world again. He remembers Kivanc as a teenager, as a young adult with helpless tears in his eyes and it's making all three of you angry because that _shouldn't be happening._

Kurloz should have his matesprite by his side, your dad should have the one who changed his entire faith with him.

You sit down on the creaky front stairs, propping your chin in your hands and watching the traffic zip past on the road at the end of the driveway. It's almost impossible to see through the growth of plants, and you know now that your dad has them trimmed every few weeks, even if he has to do it himself. The cover of trees and bushes had made it so much easier for them to be taken and the world to be flipped on it's head.

There's an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach and there's a pounding in your head.

Eventually your dad comes back around to the front of the house, making a beeline for where you're sitting and slumping down next to you. His hands are rough with callous when he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, tucking your head under his chin, and the lines around his eyes are deeper than they probably should be. "I know." he whispers in Spanish, the language you were raised with and now you remember that too. "It's not fair, and I almost wish that I could wave a hand and yell at someone and make it change."

"As a troll you could have." you mutter, shrugging once before leaning against him and sighing. "It ain't right."

"No it isn't." he says, his voice as soft as it's ever going to get.

Your brother didn't come with you today, had said something about not wanting to freak you out by having you see him cry, then had disappeared into his room and shut the door quietly. Despite the fact that he prefers sign language to English, he almost never does anything quietly; if it can be said in Spanish, then he'll speak, but it's never soft or gentle or quiet and it's probably a family trait considering the booming voice of your dad and the rapid-fire style Kurloz usually speaks in.

Aitor shifts, then turns to look at the car, the scars on his face stretching the skin as he sighs too. You think there might be tears running down his cheeks, but you can't see any if there are, and he's not making any noise. 

You hate the fact that you feel useless, all of your highblood might gone, stripped away from you with the conversion to human flesh.

It isn't fucking fair.

 

_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_

 

It takes too long and you spent a lot of time not sleeping, having to survive entirely on energy drinks and quick naps where you could get them, but you find Karkat.

You'd trawled through the internet for so long, looking for any hint of Karbro, but he'd taken down every online profile that he'd ever had after the kidnapping of his family. You don't blame him, you think as you lean back in your chair and balance the laptop on your knees, you'd probably do the same fuckin' thing if someone had up and taken away your people. The point is, though, that your little mutant brother is back online, in the form of a picture on the website of the college he goes to.

He doesn't look happy, and he's not the main focus of the picture, but he's there.

"Gamzee?" Tavros calls out as he enters the apartment the two of you share. You hear him drop his keys onto the hook near the front door and you trot out to greet him, taking the bags of groceries from him before he can even ask for help. "Hello Gamzee!" he chirps, grinning at you as he turns without pausing to pull his coat off and hang it up neatly before following you into the kitchen. 

"Found him." is all you say as you open the fridge and crouch down to put things away. "Karbro is in the same city as his cousins." you frown as you nudge aside a tray of brownies, eventually pulling them out and setting them on the counter. There's only three left out of twenty-four, and all it's doing is taking up space. Tavros reaches over your shoulder and snags the bottle of dish-soap, plopping it into place on the counter. Before you can figure out where to put the jar of pickles in a fridge that both of your dads are doing their best to keep filled, Tavros kneels down next to you and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

"I ran into someone today." he says quietly, taking the jar from you and setting it on the floor next to your knees. "Her name is Elaheh Nassar. She was at the store, and she told me to give you something."

He hands you a small piece of paper that he pulled from his pocket, watching to see how you react.

"...Tavbro?"

"Elaheh Nassar was checking up on her uncle-by-marriage's house," he explains, curling his hands together with yours, slotting your fingers together and holding tight. "She does it every month, has since he disappeared and one of his sons went with him. I overheard her talking to her sister about it, the both of them wandering around the produce section, and I kind of interrupted and asked them if they meant the Burakgazi house."

You can feel your eyes go wide as your head snaps down so you can look at the piece of paper caged securely between both his and your hands. 

"She did, and she asked me why I knew." he takes a deep breath and presses another kiss to your forehead, nuzzling between your eyebrow piercings with the tip of his nose for a second. "And I told her that my boyfriend was looking for the remaining son. I told her that not only was he the son of a police officer and upset about the disappearances, but he was an old friend from high school and was upset about not being able to contact Kivanc." he grinned when he pulled back, shifting so that he was sitting instead of kneeling.

"So she gave you his number?" you ask, a tightness building in your chest, a burning hope that would have felt less out of place if you'd been the Bard of Hope and not the Bard of Rage during the game. 

"And told me to give it to you, yeah." he frowns for a moment. "She also asked her sister to go get something from somewhere else and asked me about what I thought of classes and aspects of people. Laleh returned before I could figure out if she meant like from the game, and she stopped talking the moment she saw her sister again." 

You pull back and wrap both of your arms around him, clenching tightly like you did the year before when your memories had connected for the first time.

It's two different ways that you've found him, now, and you hope that he doesn't disappear before you can find him in person.

 

He calls you first, it turns out, the phone ringing when you're taking notes from your texbook to use in class.

You pick it up without looking at the caller ID, rambling out a greeting without taking your eyes off of the paper. His voice in your ear makes you jump, and you grin at nothing as you clamp the end of your pen between your teeth. "God fucking damn it, Gamzee, you shambling mass of uselessness, why do I have to call you first?"

"Hey Karbro." you answer. "Nice to hear your voice again. Everything alright?"

There's a silence from the other end for a moment, like he's deciding whether or not to hang up on you. "My dad and brother are still missing, and they have been for about four and a half years now." he sighs, the weight of the world trembling in his voice. "And I really don't know what to do right now."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with not knowin', Karkat." you reassure him, trying to make yourself as soft-voiced as you can. Your little palebro needs comfort right now, and you weren't the best at that when you were a troll, but maybe you can help with it as a human. "Besides all the rest, you've all up and got a good family left. Your cousin handed Tavbro your number to give to me, and I only didn't call 'cause I got studyin' to do." you chew slowly on the end of the pen until Tavros wakes up from his mini-nap and pulls it out from between your teeth, tucking it into your book and closing it all gentle-like.

You pet at his hair, rubbing at his scalp until he makes a small purring noise and his eyes close again. 

"You're in college now?" Karkat sounds impressed, and it makes a part of you squirm happily. He's your moirail and he's pleased with something you did. "That's good." his voice is strained, and there's a sound like he switched the phone over to his other ear. "...Would it be impossible for you to come meet me somewhere?"

"In town for me, or in town for you?"

A sigh crackles across the line and you perk up as you wait. "In town for you. I'm at this little pancake diner place on-" a pause, "Linnord street, and I really don't want to be alone right now. There's stuff I need to talk to someone about, and as much as I love my cousin, it can't be her, and the only other options are the group of people I need to talk about." another pause, another sigh, his poor heart probably shaking under the weight of his life. "If it's not too much trouble."

"Nah," you address that issue first. "It's not trouble Karbro, ain't never been trouble to make sure you're alright. Should'a done it more often as trolls though." you run a thumb along Tavros's cheek, then nod. "I'll be there in a lil bit, alright?"

"Yeah." his breath rattles across the line like he's dying and that's all he has left to give.

You wait until he hangs up first, then toss your phone onto the bed and stand up carefully, tip-toeing around the room so you don't disturb Tavros and his nap. 

"Is he alright?" 

Apparently you weren't quiet enough. "He's at the diner on Linnord, needs someone to talk to that ain't blood or the people he wants to talk about." you hop awkwardly on one foot as you tell him this, then give up and sit on the floor to pull your shoes on. There's just some things that tall folk ain't supposed to do, and putting shoes on while standing is a good example of that. 

Tavros smiles at you, stretching until his spine pops and he makes a pleased little noise. "I'll go put clean sheets on the guest bed." he stands up slowly, sliding first to the edge of the bed and planting his feet firmly on the ground.

There's several parts of you that feel warm and fuzzy when he says things like that, understands wordlessly that something needs to be done, and you're glad you're not in Alternian society anymore. Some of the things you feel for him would get you culled, and that is not an experience you would want. "Thank you," you grin at him when he steps across the room to you and takes your hands in his own, hauling you back to your own feet. "I'm all worried about him, and if he's in town-"

"He shouldn't be alone." Tavros finishes for you. His smile is bright, and his eyes are understanding and he leans up on his toes and kisses across your jaw, eventually meeting your lips and falling into a much-practiced habit. When he pulls back, his smile is even brighter, and he nods. "Don't let him be alone, not when he's in a town that he last spent time in the year his family vanished."

He walks you to the door, still slightly sleep-rumpled and wearing a pair of your pajama pants. They're a little tight on his hips and they drown his feet in fabric, but he loves them and you love seeing him in them. 

Another couple of kisses and then you're out the door, walking down the street and watching as cars pass.

Time seems to blur, and you arrive at the diner much faster than you thought you would, pulling a hand from your pocket to push open the door. A bell above your head jingles and you take a moment to scan the room, spotting him almost immediately. Karkat is sitting in a booth near the corner, halfway slumped over the table, one of his legs drawn up so that he can hug it to his chest. 

You walk over to him and slide onto the bench next to him, leaning down until he looks at you and nods.

Seconds pass as he watches you and you watch him, and then he collapses sideways and starts sobbing, a huff of noise coming out of his mouth with every attempted breath. You bring a hand up and wrap your arm around him while he cries, muttering nonsense to him and patting his head.

"C'mon," you start to slide out of the booth. "Let's get out of here."

Karkat follows almost meekly, and you let him hover at your side as the two of you begin the walk back to your apartment. 

 

_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_

 

Sollux found Eridan.

It's the first thing that lights up your phone in the morning, that Sollux found Eridan and a used-to-be-troll whose name was Cronus, who falls into the same position for the seadweller as Kurloz did for you. Karkat seems kind of excited, because apparently there might be a chance of the guy's memories revealing the secret of where his brother and dad might be.

You spend the morning acting as a pillow for Tavros while he reads something for school, his hair spread out across your stomach in a way that proves it's a little longer than usual. Running your hand through it, you think about what's happening soon.

His birthday is coming up.

Your little Tavbro will be twenty soon, and the two of you are going to be going home for it, where your dads and brothers will be waiting. There's a lil' party planned, and there's going to be cake because you plan on baking one for him. It'll be motherfucking perfect and delicious and you're still trying to decide what flavor it's going to be, because you know what Tav likes and you know what you can do and there's a lot of options. 

If it's okay with him, you might invite Karbro and his flushbuddy.

Karbro is all settled into being who he was now, as well as who he is, the mess in his 'pan all sorted and settled into a place where it ain't gonna hurt him anymore. His memories finally came together and relaxed him a bit, calming the anger that has always been his.

John might be a bit different, but he's a good egg. He's the one who fell for your little bro, who all up and used himself to make things better. His brother is a bit of an asshole, that motherfucker the one who prompted Karkat to have his panic a year ago. Elaheh might also be a good person to invite, safety in numbers and happiness sometimes found in groups and all that.

Tavros leans his head back a little, pressing a kiss to the middle of your palm and smiling up at you.

"What're you thinking about?"

You smile back at him and run your thumb over his bottom lip, like you could catch a kiss on your fingers and keep it forever. "Birthdays and people, is all." he makes a noise that you translate as 'go on', and you watch his eyes watch you, the little sparkles of gold like drops of sunlight in the brown. "Wonderin' if it would be okay to invite Karbro to your party, and mebbe a couple of others?"

"Yeah." he nods, then rolls over and rests his chin on your stomach, throwing an arm up and around your waist all secure-like and it makes you feel safe. "It'd be nice to see the ones we've managed to find, even if some of them weren't the nicest when we last saw them. Karkat is usually pretty nice though, and the guy he's with is good too." he unwinds from you and crawls up to press himself against your side, setting his book on the table and wrapping his arm back around you. 

"Tavbro's got a Windybro!" you laugh as you press your forehead to his, turning to curl an arm around him as well.

Every day with him feels like a gift, like a miracle, and you can't figure out exactly how you were allowed to have this, why you were given this particular gift of a person who loves you and keeps you in line. You watch him dissolve into giggles, watch his smile grow and there's a warm feeling in your chest that you're glad you get to feel.

"And," he says when his laughter calms down and leaves little twinkles of light in his eyes as the proof that it was there. "If we invite Elaheh, then Karkat'll have a cousin with him and Kurloz and Rufioh can have someone to talk to. Oh! And the guy that Rufioh's dating, who used to be named Horuss."

"I'm glad you keep their names all figured out, Tavbro." you shake your head, messy curls flopping around and getting in your eyes. "I ain't got the mindspace to think about all that."

Tavros shrugs, then nudges forward and presses the tip of his nose to yours, and you can feel the flush on your cheeks. "It's pretty easy, mostly. The game put us here and gave most of us names that sounded right. Y'know, Carles is Kurloz and Garaile is Gamzee..." he shrugs again, his other hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair. "Horuss is Harris, and it's kind of easy to remember with things like that."

You frown for a second, then shrug as well. "I ain't got the mindspace for it." you say again. 

"I'll help you with that then." he assures you, rolling you back onto your back and flopping on top of you, a warm weight that makes everything okay again. His head tucks under your chin and his feet reach somewhere in the middle of your calves and everything is perfect when he kisses a line at the base of your neck and then settles down and holds onto you tightly.

The rest of your morning is spent like that, no classes until afternoon and no reason to move.

It's good.

 

What's not good is the news that lands in your phone about a week later.

Karkat's messages almost blow it up, each one of them panicked because he saw Eridan get hit in the head with a baseball bat, and then there was something with a video and he recorded something and you're not sure what's going on but he wants you to send it to your dad so that it can be passed along to the right people. He sent the file in an email, he messages you, and it's making him worried because of reasons. 

When you open the video and let it play, it's obvious that it's a recorded video-call, a screen capture of the moments Eridan was attacked.

The face that greets you makes you panic.

You can't see their actual face, but there's a pair of red eyes peeking out from a dark green mask of some kind, a red swirl on each cheek and sharp-looking white teeth painted onto it. Time itself feels like it freezes as you watch the fucker drag Eridan away, over the back of the couch and out of frame. They come back, as if to check that nothing was left behind, and they sit down for a minute to watch the computer, a tilt to their head as if they're trying to figure out what to do.

They raise a green-gloved hand and wave, then lean forward and hit a button, causing the call to end.

You're shaking as you watch it again and again, your left hand clenched so tightly around your phone that you think it might actually break, but you can't bring yourself to let go of it. You remember someone with a face like that, you remember them and they shouldn't be here, but it makes sense because they were in a session of the game and you're so motherfucking dumb sometimes. You should have warned someone, should have said something to someone who could have prevented this shit.

"Fuck!"

Tavros comes running in when you shout that, a spoon in his hand and worry twisting his entire face. "Gamzee?"

Shaking your head, you wave frantically for him to come over, then hit play again. Watching his face as he watches Eridan get dragged away, as he watches the nightmare you brought into this world unfold, you relax your hold on your phone, opening a new text to your brother and your dad. 

"What- Gamzee, what's happening?"

"That **_fucker_** ," you begin, a snarl in your voice and an anger in your chest that you haven't felt in a long time, "Is Caliborn. He's a motherfucking **_Cherub_** , and he's doing **_stupid shit that I'll kill him for_**." you gesture at the screen with your phone, growling as you hit the pause button and focus on the masked face in front of you. "This is a video call that Karbro and John were on this morning, to see Eridan and Sollux all together-like, and _**Caliborn fucking ruined it by smashing Eridan's head with a baseball bat AND WE DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO SOLLUX, HE ISN'T ANSWERING HIS FUCKING PHONE AND kARBRO IS uPSeT!"**_

Your entire body is shaking now and you push back from the desk, wrapping your hair around your hand and yanking as hard as you can. It's not Tavros's fault, you shouldn't be yelling at him, but you're so angry with yourself and with Caliborn and with the MOTHERFUCKING GAME for doing this.

A hand wraps around your wrist and dislodges your hand from your hair. 

With a deep breath through his nose, Tavros puts a hand on your chest, the weight of it pressing you against the wall. You might be taller than him, but he definitely has more muscle than you do, and when he pushes you around like this, you follow. "Calm down Gamzee." he urges, meeting your eyes and setting a breathing pattern for you to follow. "Once you do, call your dad. It's a city over, but I'm pretty sure he has friends on the police force over there."

"I texted him," you answer, your voice almost calm as you think things through. "Him and Kurloz."

"Good." Tavros relaxes his grip on your wrist slightly, leaning in closer and holding onto you. "We'll fix this, we'll find Eridan and Sollux, and we're going to do it in a way that means Caliborn gets time in prison, hopefully with no parole and no bail."

There's a frantic knocking on the door, like someone is using their fist to get themselves heard.

Tavros pulls back and takes your hand again, making you follow as he goes to answer it. On the other side is Kurloz, his hands clenching and un-clenching as he tries to get his breathing under control. _'I found out some things and your message just made it the right things to find out and I ran here from dad's house because I need to see that video.'_ he signs at you, his eyes wide.

You reach forward and drag him inside, slamming the door closed behind him and forming a chain of people as you head back to your computer, starting the video over when Kurloz says he's ready. 

His shoulders tense up when he sees the masked guy, and he drags his phone out of his pocket, flicking away from his browser and opening up his camera roll, scrolling to a saved picture of an albino man and someone who looks like his twin. They both have the same face, her's a little more delicate, but their coloring is different in that she has dark hair and porcelain skin while he's paper white and white haired and red eyed. 

A sense of dread settles on you again as you look at the photo, then back at your computer screen.

Caliborn and Calliope. 

Fuck.

Kurloz pulls a USB out of his pocket, sliding it into a port and waiting impatiently for it to connect and open up. When it does, he clicks on a folder and selects all of the files, watching in silence as they all pop open. 

There's newspaper articles on a family with the name 'Fields', there's more pictures of the twins, there's a mention of one of them being involved with some petty theft.

And then there's the stuff that looks like it was pulled from someone else's computer, lists of dates and names and locations and stuff that looks encoded. Kurloz looks up at you, his eyes narrowed and angry. _'I have spent the last five years finding all of this,'_ he signs, breathing hard again. _'I work in a tattoo and piercing shop, where people think that talking to each other in Spanish in front of the mute artist is an okay way to talk about what's going on with their boss.'_

He jabs a finger at the screen, an angry motion that almost looks like he's trying to stab out Caliborn's eyes. "That fucker," he begins slowly, switching to Spanish and letting Tavros fully into the conversation. "Is the one that kidnapped Kankri and his dad. Their house wasn't just broken into the day they vanished, this **motherfucker** took them and made sure that they were taken away to someplace else."

"Do you know where the someplace else is?" Tavros asks, his hands still tangled with yours.

"About a two hour drive away from here," Kurloz answers, "Don't ask me how I know, I really don't want to have to tell you and ruin the plausible denial defense if this all goes wrong." he took a deep breath, then nodded. "Dad's on his way, he's going to drive me up there if I tell him that it's the guy. I don't think that the two of you should come with us, I think that you either need to go to school or you need to head to Karkat's."

"Karbro prolly needs someone with him right now, and John is there but that's prolly not much help seein' as they were both watchin' when this all happened." you're calmer now, something about seeing your brother so panicked and angry making you more clear-minded. "You and dad are the ones who need to deal with this, and I don't think that Karbro'll be up to going with you."

 _ **"GOOD**_." Kurloz answers, then pulls the USB out of the computer and shoves it back into his pocket. "Only reason he didn't come with me is because he wanted to do some things before we went."

Standing and growling quietly, he ruffles your hair, then Tavros's and pushes past both of you.

You follow and watch as Kurloz stops near the door. "If this goes wrong," he says, his voice slightly shaky as he stays turned away from you, his hand on the door as a car horn sounds outside. "Then you need to not ever come looking for us. The guy we're going after is the son of someone that dad, in his human memories, was following several years back now. There were suspicions of a crime ring and he was apparently the Lord of it, and so if we go missing, don't come find us." he pulls something else out of his pocket, dropping it on the counter.

Kurloz pulls the door open and walks out, slamming it behind him.

Stepping closer and nudging you towards your shoes, Tavros steps around you and begins clearing up the dishes from breakfast. "Go get ready," he quietly orders, setting the dishes in the sink and picking up whatever it was that Kurloz left behind. "I'll make sure that nothing will go bad if we have to be out of here for a couple of days."

You nod and go back to the bedroom to put on actual clothes.

 

The taxi ride to Elaheh's house is long and quiet, the driver not needing any input from the two of you once you give him the address.

In your hands is Kurloz's wallet and a ring of keys that are labeled, 'Burakgazi'. Your brother left behind anything that could point to his identity and address, including his ID and debit cards. There's a lump in your throat and a tightness in your chest, and you can't tell what makes you feel worse about this entire situation. As the minutes tick by and you text back and forth with Karkat, Tavros's hand on your knee, you have to wonder if this is what Karkat feels like all the time. 

There's a chance that you're never going to see your family again.

Your dad and your brother might have just gone off to their deaths and you've got an entire lifetime of memories that make this feel like the worst possible thing. Every breath that you try to take is short, shallow enough to make you feel like you haven't got enough air to breathe. 

It feels like it takes forever for the cab to pull up in front of the right house, Elaheh and Karkat sitting out front and waiting for you. She stands first, walking over to meet you and pulling out her wallet to pay the driver before either of you can.   
Tavros holds open the door for you, helps you stand and then supports you as he walks you to the front door and sets you down on the steps, sitting next to you. You're still holdng Kurloz's wallet, your knuckles clenched white around it as you stare into nothingness. Karkat slides of out his chair and sits down on your other side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders while Tavros slots his fingers together with yours.

Distantly you notice that the cab is gone and Elaheh is headed back towards you, the long, elegant lines of her body curling down until she can meet your eyes and put a comforting hand on your knee.

"This is probably not the best time to say this," she begins in an accented voice, her words soft. There's a couple of jade-green rings through her bottom lip and matching studs lining her eyebrows. "But now that I know you all remember and Laleh isn't here, my name used to be Porrim." she clears her throat, then nods slowly. "I was part of the session that your brothers played in, and I want you to know that I will do my best to make sure that everything is going to be alright."

"Why is Laleh not being here a factor in this?" Tavros asks quietly, pressing the side of his head against yours.

Porrim smiles, her brilliantly white teeth almost a threat for the world around them. "Because the game saw fit to make her not remember yet. I am more than reasonably sure that my little sister is Kanaya." she reaches forward, puts her hand on top of yours and Tavros's, then looks at Karkat.

He adds his to the pile, cupping it around everyone's as if that'll help keep you all shielded from the world.

"They'll come back." Porrim whispers, sliding Kurloz's wallet out of your hands and into your lap. "Kurloz is a fighter, and I don't think that anyone who was an older version of him will be any different."

The four of you sit there like that for a long while.

Three days pass and there's no word, no messages, no sign of survival from your dad and brother and there's nothing on the news to tell you whether or not they're alive.

Tavros calls the college for the both of you, stating a family emergency and arranging to take a quarter off. You wish you could find the words to tell him what it means that he's helping you as much as he is, to tell him how much you're thankful for him sticking around even when you're being an idiot. Kurloz's wallet sits at the bottom of your bag and you wish you could tell Tavros that he means so much to you and that you love him so much.

Your phone remains silent.

Somewhere on the second day, Rufioh and Horuss had shown up, being promptly shown to a guest room in Porrim's home. Rufioh has spent his time following you and Tavros around, and you're actually really glad that he is because you don't know what the fuck you're doing.

You have two human Nitram's following you around and making sure that you eat and sleep normally. 

Mostly you just sit in one room until Tavros pulls you somewhere else. Karkat sits with you most of the time, both of you silent and panicked, eyes darting around the room like something is going to happen. 

The sick feeling in the pit of your stomach isn't going away, no matter how much you try to think of something else, anything else. It's a feeling of dread and regret, the realization that you probably caused this weighing heavily on your brain. It ain't right that everyone around you is getting ruined by what you did, ain't fair that their lives are getting torn apart the same as yours.

Horuss tries his best to keep you company sometimes, but he's an echo to you, a familiar face of someone you destroyed and he tells you that Equius remembers and doesn't blame you, that Nepeta wanted to send along a card and maybe come along herself.

All of the words float in your head, circling around each other until it's all one mass of sound and you're suddenly sitting on Tavros's lap, your hands pressed to your ears and tugging on your plugs. His hands cover yours, stop the violence you're trying to do to yourself as he whispers comfort into your mind. His voice clears everything away, makes you feel like you don't have to be anything but small and soft and held by him.

"This isn't your fault." he whispers, curling a hand around the back of your head. "You didn't do good things all the time, but this isn't your fault."

Rufioh watches as you fall apart, watches his brother hold onto you and no one is saying anything and it feels like the world is falling apart. You've had you memories back for two years now, and it doesn't feel fair that this is happening now. If it was gonna happen, it should have happened when you first woke up, when you first knew who you were and what stained your hands.

More time passes, and you think it's another couple of days, but you really aren't sure.

Your phone rings.

It startles you out of sleep, knocks away the dreams and draws you up out of them like a fish on a hook and it tells you that things are happening now. The caller ID is Kurloz's, and you feel like you're going to be sick, only you're not sure if it's relief or something else. 

"Hello?"

The ringing stopped because Tavros answered. You'd stared dumbly at it for too long, and Tavros reached over and answered it from where he'd been sitting up and doing a puzzle in a book.

"He's doing- Well, I shouldn't say fine, because things aren't quite right for him right now." he sets down his pencil and pets your hair, smiling when you turn to look at him from where your head is pillowed on his lap. "Alright. Which hospital?"

A pause.

"We can be there in about an hour."

You hear your brother's voice faintly through the phone and you breathe through your nose slowly as Tavros says goodbye and hangs up the phone. You perk up, trying to figure out what's going on, who's in the hospital, and then he leans down to kiss your forehead. "Your brother and dad are fine. They've got Kadri and Kerim Burakgazi at the hospital, getting treated for various injuries." he laughs quietly. "Kurloz said that he set the building on fire when they all got out alive, and Eridan and Sollux as going to be okay too."

Tavros helps you sit up and you let him, the tightness in your chest finally releasing and allowing you to breathe normally. "They're okay?"

"They're fine." he kisses your forehead again, like a ward against the darkness that he knows is lurking inside your brain. "And now you need to go shower and get actually dressed because I told them we'd be there in an hour. They're in a hospital in town, because your dad decided to drive far enough away from the burning building to disconnect them from it entirely."

Still feeling numb, you shamble off to do what he says.

When you're in the shower, everything suddenly hits you and you start crying, big heaving sobs and your fists curled against the wall as you try to stay upright against everything. Everyone is alright, families have been repaired, and the motherfuckers responsible are probably either dead or in prison. You aren't going to be hated by everyone because you didn't get anyone killed this time.

Everything will be okay.

 

_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_@_-_-_

 

The room you're in is filled with people, a good amount of them familiar and friendly, and your head is resting on Tavros's lap while you watch Karkat and Kankri play a game together.

Every nightmare you have had, of things going differently, is starting to fade away now. Kankri and his dad made it out alive, returning home after more than five years gone. The eldest Burakgazi has returned to your dad's church, and is usually found in your dad's house. They argue sometimes, but the fights they have ain't awful, usually they're about the dishes or the laundry, and your dad's the one who folds first.

They always apologize.

You find out that, because of the way the game settled everyone in, there are some memories spread out between the other peoples parents of you. Karkat's lusus remembered you, so Karkat's dad does too.  
It makes things better, and you're glad that someone liked you enough to remember you.

As if he can hear what you're thinking, Tavros runs his fingers through your hair and sort of combs out your curls, running a careful finger in a wide berth around your new ink. You almost want to tell him that he can do whatever he wants with it, it's his, but you don't know how to say it. Not without failing horribly anyways, and you want every word you say to him to be perfect because he deserves it and there's very little about him that isn't.

"Hey Gamzee?" he whispers, leaning closer and nudging at your temple with his nose.

You look up at him and smile. "Yeah bro?"

"I really wanted to ask you something, and it's always sort of been a goal of mine, even when we were kids, and it's kind of an important question. I'm also trying to figure out if it would be too much to ask in front of everyone here." he gestures to the side, the motion encompassing the entire room, wall-to-wall. 

Kurloz turns his head towards you, you can see it from the corner of your eye, and you sit up slowly and tilt your head at Tavros. "Yeah." you nod, not even sure really what you're agreeing to, other than your Tavbro is asking you a question and you're okay with him asking anything from you, anywhere and anytime. He still looks nervous, and he has his bag pressed against his thigh, one hand clamped on the top of it like someone might try to take it away. "Anythin' you wanna ask, you know it's fine with me."

So far, Kurloz is the only one watching the two of you.

Tavros's smile grows, and he opens his bag and digs something out. When his hand appears again, it's holding a box that fits in his palm, like a perfectly fitted puzzle piece. "Still okay with this being asked here?"

Kankri has paused the game, and now the entire room is _silent._

"...Yeah?" you really don't know where he's going with this, but you're pretty sure it's going to be okay because Tavros wouldn't do anything bad to you.

He takes your hands in his, settling the small box in between, and focuses his smile on you. You look between his face and his hands and your hands and it finally fucking hits you. The box is covered in soft fabric, you think it's velvet, and the color of it matches the blood color you used to have. "You're alright?" he asks quietly, ducking his head closer.

"Yeah." your voice is shaky, your entire body feelin' like someone all up and stole your internals and replaced them with balloon-air. "And yeah." you nod your head because you know what he's asking now, and fuck you wanna say yes.

His cheeks are flushed, warm and bright and he looks beautiful as he holds your hands. "Yeah?"

You nod again because your words are betraying you, can't say them no more, and he pulls his hands back and pops open the box. When he goes to slide the ring onto your finger, you look at it for a few minutes, watching the way the light shines off of it. The stone is almost flat in the band, oval shaped and black with shiny spots in it's surface, and it looks like he managed to trap a galaxy in it and give it to you. 

Your chest is tight and you can't breathe and then his fingers are slotted together with yours and all you can do is crawl into his lap and wrap yourself around him.

There are no words, there are no thoughts, there is nothing you can do except press yourself against him and hide your face in his shoulder, his hand cupping gently over where his mark is, and this is yours and you can't believe it. You can't believe that this is something you can have and no one is going to take it from you, that you belong to him and everything is okay.

Sollux lets out a whistle, long and loud, and the entire room breaks out into laughter and cheers.

Everything is okay.

Your name used to be Gamzee Makara and now it isn't but it is, and everything is okay and you'll be okay and Tavros will be with you.

**Author's Note:**

> I told you you'd get my GamTav stories.
> 
> I fucking told you.
> 
> So now we have Persian/Turkish Vantass and Maryams, Irish Amporas, and Korean Captors.
> 
> Let's add in Native Spanish-speaking Makaras and Nitrams. I really hope that none of this is going to offend anyone. I did my best to research names and where they came from, trying not to mix regions and things.
> 
> The Zahhaks are going to be British-Indian, and the Egbert/Harley/English/Crocker family is something like a quarter Japanese.
> 
> About the headcanon that GHB changed his beliefs because of the Signless|Sufferer? I like it a lot, and I will use it when I can. He now runs a small church that welcomes every faith and brings in Reverends and Priests and Rabbis and various religious peoples to speak to the groups that come in.
> 
> Also, most of this fic is meant to be in Spanish, but I wanted to keep it easy to read without having to scroll down to the note every few lines.


End file.
